that he looked as if he’d stepped directly out of the Highlands.
“Then you will like the bread.” Cristyn opened the door and held out her arm. “Make yourselves comfortable. And please, don’t worry; your nephew is in good hands.” She closed the door softly behind her.
“As soon as I have my tea and cake, I should see if the carriage driver and the horses are settled in. The coachman is taking a room at the George Inn.” Edwin strode to the basin, picked up the pitcher, and poured water into it.
“Thank you for making all the arrangements,” Garrett said solemnly.
Edwin splashed water on his face, then reached for the small towel. “It won’t be cheap. My fees, hiring the men for St. Giles, the carriage, accommodations, not to mention the costs for treatment. You do realize your nephew may be here several months?”
Garrett leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “How long were you here?”
Once he dried his face, Edwin laid the towel on the table. “A little over three months, and I was not in the shocking condition Aidan is.” He turned to face Garrett. “Prepare yourself for possible dreadful news. There could be any number of complications. Considering the orgies, syphilis may be a possibility, or any other poxes one catches from excessive and indiscriminate sex. He may even have sold himself or others for money. Those chasing the dragon will stoop to low levels to obtain the euphoric highs of opium.”
Garrett shook his head sadly. “Then let us hope that he escapes such a fate.” He paused. “What is ‘chasing the dragon,’ by the by?”
“Chinese slang, for inhaling the vapor from smoking opium.” A knock sounded at the door. “Ah, our tea and cake. Try to relax, Garrett.”
Only he couldn’t relax or stop his mind from racing. He tried not to wallow in guilt over not intervening sooner. Instead, he puzzled over why Aidan would live such a desolate, dissipated life. Hell, the lad had everything going for him. Why toss it all away on an opium pipe? But now was not the time to judge his behavior; Aidan needed empathy and support. Garrett would be standing by, ready to offer it.
His nephew looked horrible, filthy, a shocking change from the carefree lad he’d been previously. Aidan had often invited him on his erotic adventures, but Garrett soon grew weary of the meaningless sex and declined further romps to London or Bath. He’d found more gratification staying at Wollstonecraft Hall raising and breeding his horses. His father used to employ a steward, but about five years past, Garrett took charge of running of the estate and seeing to the tenants. The position gave him purpose.
Aidan obviously had no purpose in his life. No responsibilities. Society called him a ‘notorious rake.’ The nom de guerre fit. Perhaps he and the entire family should have taken Aidan to task. But since his oldest nephew was the heir apparent, sowing wild oats was expected, and, sadly, accepted. Only Aidan went too far—right off the cliff into complete darkness.
After they consumed the food and drink, Edwin headed for the village, leaving Garrett alone with the doctor. Bevan’s face was grave as he took a seat in his office. “Aidan is malnourished and dehydrated. I would guess he’s lost close to two stone.”
Jesus. Garrett recalled the last family meeting Aidan had attended in September. The lad had looked thin. But everyone was caught up in their lives and causes and didn’t think to question him on his gaunt appearance—or his behavior. He’d stumbled in drunk in the middle of the night on more than one occasion. While there was enough blame to go around, the focus must be on Aidan’s recovery.
“His body shows signed of abuse,” Bevan continued.
Garrett froze, thinking of Edwin’s dire warning. “Tell me, Doctor. I want to know it all.”
“There are indications of beatings, with various old bruises and scars. Someone held a lit cigar to his back, making a circle. The scars have healed, for the most part. But the most grievous is the indication of recent…violation. You know of what I speak?”
Garrett’s stomach turned as his blood ran cold. He had no words, and merely nodded in response.
“The injuries are inconclusive; there is no way to know if Aidan was a willing participant or not. Again, he will heal, and we can only hope that your nephew has no memory of the incident.” Dr. Bevan paused and clasped his hands on his desk. “I have seen this in others. The further one sinks into opiate-fueled oblivion, the more they no longer care about anyone or anything. Or what is done to them. Only procuring the drug matters, and the elation it brings.”
“Does…does he show signs of any pox or syphilis?” Garrett whispered.
“Not that I’ve observed. There are no open sores as such. But most symptoms occur two to twelve weeks after infection. Rest assured we will monitor the situation. Aidan is sick, running a fever, and has rat and flea bites on his hands and torso. Then there is the withdrawal. It will be extremely rough going.”
“I will stay here with him,” Garrett stated firmly.
Dr. Bevan shook his head. “There’s no need,” he said in a gentle tone. “He won’t recognize you, especially during the next two weeks as he goes through the worst of it. After that? Once he becomes lucid again, the guilt and shame will overtake him. I have found having family members around only exacerbates the feeling of low self-esteem in the patient. My advice is to leave tomorrow with Edwin. I will send detailed updates.”
Garrett didn’t like the sound of this. Leave Aidan here with strangers? What if Edwin was wrong about this man? Yes, he and Edwin were friends. The man upheld the law, first as a Bow Street Runner and now as an investigator. Hell, he did trust him. If Edwin said this Dr. Bevan could be trusted, what choice did he have but to believe it? Aidan needed help most desperately. “You may send the reports in the care of Garrett Black, postal office in Sevenoaks, Kent. And what of the payment?”
“Ah. My fee is a monthly charge, regardless if the patient stays the entire thirty days. Shall we say two hundred pounds a month to start? The fee may seem excessive to most, but it funds this sanatorium and allows me to take on patients who could not otherwise afford to stay here.”
Well, he had to admire the doctor’s honesty. Edwin said it would be expensive. “My family is progressive, Doctor. We have our causes. It seems that I have just found mine. I can think of no better cause than assisting those suffering from addiction, especially those who cannot afford it. Money is no object. I wish to make a donation above and beyond the monthly fees. Shall three thousand pounds be sufficient?”
Bevan’s eyes widened in surprise. “More than sufficient, Mr. Black, and most welcome. Be assured Aidan will receive the best of care. We will bring him out of this dark abyss, never fear.”
Garrett reached in his coat pocket, pulled out a roll of pound notes, and placed them on the desk. “There is five hundred pounds, enough to pay for a couple of months of Aidan’s stay. You have a solicitor?” The doctor nodded. “Excellent. Give me his name before I depart tomorrow and we will set up a payment schedule for the fees and the donation. I will warn you, Doctor, once our family takes on a worthy cause, we are all in.”
“If I may ask in what way, Mr. Black?”
“We like to be involved in all aspects, such as planning for the future. Perhaps I can fund a scheme for expansion. More doctors, new clinics. I will contact you when I have it worked out. Now, I wish to see Aidan. I understand that he won’t recognize me, but I must see him, for I have to report
